


What?

by FormulaFerrari



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, bahrain gp 2015, qualifying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3782566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something unexpected happened in qualifying</p><p>*set Bahrain 2015*</p>
            </blockquote>





	What?

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is highly unrealistic but it was a silly idea that got in my head yesterday and it made me smile : ) 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> #ForzaJules  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“OK, Fernando, that’s the session over. Bring it back to the pits.” Fernando rolled his eyes, taking the first corner smoothing as the radio went silent. Typical. One car doesn’t even start and he can’t do anything. Sometimes he wonders where all the pace goes on Saturday afternoons. He didn’t think it was this bad. He didn’t think it would be this bad this far into the season. Yes, only on race four but still going out in Q1? He couldn’t. He didn’t want to talk to the press and explain again why they had gone out when they thought they could get into Q2. He didn’t want to. It got tiresome trying to be positive all the time and yes, better things were to come, but this just hurt too much.

He gritted his teeth as he passed his old garage, reiterating the words that kept him going again and again. _If they still come second it was all worth it. If they still come second it was all worth it._ He had to believe he made the right decision. He had to believe Ferrari couldn’t beat Mercedes this year. The trust was broken. They didn’t try hard enough to persuade him it would be fine this year. And the deficit was still big. He thought back to Australia. Thirty-four seconds doesn’t just disappear, even if it looked like it had. He had made the right choice. McLaren was a risk. A risk that wasn’t yet paying off but it would. It had to.

Pulling the car to a stop he pulled at his gloves as his mechanics surrounded his car, pushing him back into the garage. The team had even given up telling him where he had finished now and he couldn’t really blame them. All their work just seemed to be in vain at the moment, with one car cutting out before it even had a chance. They’d worked so hard on the car and at the moment that seemed to be the main concern. Or it was something that was concerning Fernando lots. He didn’t want his own car giving up on him; they needed the laps because they needed the data. It was still so important that they were learning about the car. Still so important that they understood how to improve.

It took Fernando a moment to realise no one had come to release his seatbelts.

He frowned at the mechanic to his right, currently placing his screen securely in front of him. What kind of new torture was this? They were going to make him sit in the car for the rest of the session? Force him to watch the rest of it unfold in front of him? Maybe this was Ron’s idea. _Look. Look where you should be right now._ Fernando looked towards the other side of the garage to see if Jenson was being held in the car too but, of course, his car wasn’t back. Fernando shook his head. This wasn’t right.

“What is going on?” Fernando radioed to the pit wall. It was almost humorous; they were close enough now for him to get out the car and shout to them. Which he would have done if someone had given him the room to get out of the car. Fernando tapped his fingers on top of the steering wheel as he waited for a response.

“Sorry, Fernando?” It was Andrea. Fernando tried to look over the top of the screen towards the pit wall, find out what was happening but his screen was still in the way. Nothing was making sense.

“Why am I still in the car? What is going on?” He was met with a short silence.

“We were P9.” Andrea said. Fernando blinked.

“Nine?”

“Yes.” The Italian nodded. Fernando felt the corner of his lips turn up.

“That is Q2?”

“That is Q2, Fernando.” He could hear Andrea smiling now and it broke his own lips across his cheeks.

“We make Q2?”

“You certainly did.”

“Who goes out?”

“Maldonado, Kvyat, Stevens, Merhi and Jenson. That order.” Andrea read back. Fernando pulled his gloves back on. “Are not expecting miracles-” Andrea said sternly, not wanting to get Fernando’s hopes up too much.

“-But are Q2.” Fernando beamed, his eyes now observing the screen closely. He looked across the garage to where Ron was standing, catching his eye. The older man gave him a small nod and what Fernando could have sworn was the hint of a smile before turning back to the screen on the wall.

Q2. 

That had been what he was chasing. The pit lane went green and Fernando was rearing to go. He wasn’t expecting to make it too much higher than this but this in itself was progress. 

Steps in the right direction.


End file.
